A Night on the Velvet Couch

I could tell by that feral look in her eye that she was serious. The saying is old, a little trite, but I don't think that limits it's truth. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

I took a second to consider my situation. Usually when your girlfriend threatens to kick your ass, you're thinking, woo-hoo, kinky sex! I admit, I did consider that. But then I also considered that she liked to wrestle her football player friends for fun. And that she made them cry for mercy. And they were from Texas. OK, so she was nothing to disregard. I often laughed my ass off watching her kick my friend's asses all over the room after a snide comment was directed her way. Now her fury was directed at me for the first time.

At this point I should let you know that people tend to underestimate me in all my 135 lb glory. Sure. It's an easy mistake, I'll grant you. She wasn't the first to make it. I'm sure she won't be the last.

"I'm gonna make you forget all about that little red-head." she hissed to me through a clenched jaw.

Fuck, this was starting to look serious.

'Who's the little red-head?' is the question I'm sure you're asking. This is the point of the story where I take on the role of the villain. I become the lecherous cheating asshole. An only too comfortable role for me unfortunately. Asshole that is. Cheating doesn't sit so well with my conscience. Let me go on a tangent.

The Little Red-Head

I blame the ecstasy. It was her first time at a rave (party for you actual ravers out there) and only my third time. I should mention it was also her first time doing X. She didn't take to it like most people, dancing or talking their asses off or becoming intimately fascinated with some obscurity. OK, so maybe she did. I just happened to be that obscurity.

"I know about your girlfriend. Don't worry, we won't do anything. We won't even kiss."

Damn she was convincing.

That's how I found myself laying practically inside a speaker (You never think this a good idea unless you're on hard drugs - rather, it has to be one of the first time you do hard drugs). The wub-wub of heavy bass suffused our bodies. Yes, she was laying directly on top of me. While we were not kissing, her lips were resting on mine as we were quietly breathing each other's breath while the world raged around us. As innocent as this sounds, it was only the beginning. Both girls soon knew about the other and so began my stupid juggling act.

Back to my ass-whooping

Did I say that she wanted blood? My blood? I could let her throw me around a little, and take my ass-whooping, but really, would she respect someone that she could abuse so easily? Maybe this is just my masculine pride or the dynamic of a heterosexual relationship. I don't know. I'm far from an expert on the subject. Something wouldn't allow me to get my ass-kicked by my girlfriend, whether I deserved to or not. As I'm debating the finer points of my internal argument, she lunges at me. No shit, her teeth were bared. My indecision was washed away in pure reaction.

I could see the surprise in her eyes when she realized that she couldn't easily overcome me. I basically played the defensive for a while. Easily keeping her from getting the upper hand. Slowly her rage was fueled by determination, and then frustration. She was not used to being thwarted. I could see the situation slowly getting out of hand. The release valve had to be somewhere. There had to be someway to diffuse this explosive situation.

I took the offensive. Much easier than she would have ever thought possible I had her pinned, arms disabled. Then I whispered.

"I love you. I'm sorry."

I moved in to kiss her softly. She thrashed her head and tried to get away from my lips. I continued to whisper. Slowly. Determined. Eventually she allowed a light kiss without attempting to break my face with her head. Ever so slowly, I kissed her cheek. I kissed her neck. I eased up on her. Gave her breathing room. Ever so slowly.

It took a pleasurable eternity before she responded even slightly affectionately. But that night was resolution. That night I held her in my arms and contemplated the rest of my life. I've never before then or since felt so close to another human being. Every so often that night still crops up in my thoughts, in my dreams.

I don't know if it is apparent at all, but I barely survived that year. Maybe I'll write down some of my other misadventures in future daylogs. Also, this story is true to the letter. I plan on messing around with fiction, but I will always let the reader know when that is.